Becoming the Czar

by Olivia Gaines

  “Diadra?” He called out and received no answer. “Diadra?”

  Yuñior removed the tight patent leather dress shoes and in stocking feet went to the walk path between the bedrooms. He rounded the corner to find her in the bed, sleeping like an angel.

  “Damn,” he said, thinking he should wake her, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned off the light and let her sleep. Begrudgingly, he returned to his own quarters, undressed, and climbed into bed. “Rest tonight, Diadra.”

  SHE WAS COLD. HER FEET felt like ice, and she turned over, feeling for Ed but he wasn’t in the bed. Tim had insisted on purchasing a long flowing, satin robe, much like the Hollywood glamour of old, along with a pair of fur covered high heeled mules. Slipping into both of these items, she turned on the light in the connector and peered into his quarters where Ed rested in the bed. When he slept, he looked so innocent and peaceful. It was the waking hours that he was hell to deal with she mused.

  “Shit, I don’t know if it’s a good idea to sneak into his bed...he might think I’m trying to harm him and kill me,” she said, turning around to go back to her room.

  “Diadra, I know you’re there,” Yuñior said in a husky voice.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I was expecting you to come to my quarters when you came upstairs, but I must have fallen asleep,” she said, blowing her breath into her hand.

  “You’ve awakened me...”

  “So does this mean I have your permission to join you in your bed, or are you getting up and coming over to mine?”

  Yuñior reached over to the nightstand to flip on the light in the lamp. He sat up in bed, his hair mussed on his head. Diadra didn’t think the man could possibly get any sexier than when she had seen him in the tux earlier, but he looked good enough to swallow whole.

  “My bed. Plus, I want to see you walk across the room,” he said, leaning over to one arm. “Tim selected the robe for you, no?”

  “Sí, Senor, he did. Te gusta?” she asked taking long, slow strides and allowing the fabric to sway, pool, gather and swish as she walked.

  “Mucho gusto mi amor,” he replied.

  “I love when you talk to me in Spanish,” Diadra added, opening the robe to reveal the uncomfortable but sexy underwear.

  “Good Gawd, Baby, you looking fine as hell,” he said, pulling out his urban accent, sounding like a homey on the street corner. “Sorry, that was my first thought. I’ve been around Andres too much.”

  Diadra laughed and yanked back the covers on the bed. Yuñior was no longer on antibiotics and hopefully was back to being his normal self. Or at least she hoped. In one motion, she jumped in the air and landed in the center of the king-sized bed.

  “Take me you dark, desperado drug kingpin!” she said, throwing her arm over her eyes. Under her arm, she peeped at Yuñior and saw the look of horror on his face. “What? I’m sorry. You don’t like role playing?”

  He looked as if he’d just swallowed a large bug. “No, I just...oh, no. What is the word, the kids say when they do not like a thing...ah si... the yuck!”

  “Okay, then no to role playing,” she said, feeling stupid.

  Yuñior exhaled, not wanting to share but needing to qualify his distaste. “Mi Papa, the new haircut. They got loud,” he answered, swallowing hard. “They like to play the same game.”

  “Yes, but he is much older,” she said, lifting her knee, “and you can conquer this booty with gusto my Drug Czar. Handle me. Punish me for poking you in the chest!”

  “I am not my father, Diadra,” he told her, reaching for the lacy panties and ripping them off with one hand. “I am something else.”

  DIADRA NEARLY DANCED to the stables smartly outfitted in a brand-new Hunter Shadbelly and holding a riding crop. The long black split back jacket held two shiny buttons in the small of her back. The white riding pants with beige pads on the inner knees sharply contrasted against the deep black knee boots. The high neck white blouse under the tailored jacket held six sharp buttons in two rows on the front of the coat.

  “Buena Dias, Señora Fernandez,” Diadra said, coming into the stables where riders were mounting up. She spotted Angel, whom she didn’t know was at Perona de la Mar. He sat astride a beautiful chestnut roan, smartly dressed and looking as if he were ready for the hunt.

  “Good morning to you as well, Dee-ay-dra,” Anya said. “There are no double riders during the Fox Hunt, my dear.”

  “You’re actually doing a Fox Hunt? In 2020? Are foxes even indigenous to Argentina, or are you hunting the equivalent?”

  “We have the South American grey fox which is endemic to this part of the country,” Anya added. “Are you planning to ride this morning for the hunt?”

  Diadra shook her head no. “I came out to snap a few photos of me next to a horsie in this really cute outfit,” she said, taking out her phone. “See, ducklips, riding crop, look of surprise. Snap. Now this side. Duck lips, surprise at the big old horsie. Oh wow, these are so cute. I have to post them on the Gram, I mean if that is okay. As long as I don’t geotag my location.”

  “I have no idea what in the world you just said,” Anya replied, looking at the image on the phone. She was right, the photo did look cute. They both looked up as male voices approached the stables.

  Yuñior arrived, wearing a deep grey Shadbelly with a yellow waistcoat and a deep gray pork pie hat. “Good morning, Diadra,” he said, passing her by.

  “Morning, Señor Delgado. I look forward to cheering for you during the hunt,” she said, pulling a lacy handkerchief from under the sleeve of her coat. “I present to you a favor, in hopes of your good hunting fortune.”

  “I shall wear it close to my heart during the hunt,” Yuñior said, taking the reins from the groomsmen. In one motion, he hefted himself into the saddle.

  A whistle blew from the Master of the Hunt, and a pack of hounds was set loose. The loud yipping, barking, and howling made Diadra shudder. Anya wasn’t riding with the group but waited to be alone with Diadra.

  Diadra almost anticipated the move and was mentally prepared for the conversation. Instead of waiting for Anya’s ambush, she decided to outflank the woman.

  “Señora, I could really use a bit of tea and some toast this morning. Can you direct me where I may find a bit of breakfast to nosh on?” she asked.

  “Of course, I shall keep you company,” Anya said.

  “That would be lovely because it will give you and I a chance to chat,” Diadra said.

  “Chat, you and me? Whatever about?”

  “I don’t know, me and your grandson? So far, and I shall be as honest with you as I can, we are friends. We have a solid friendship and enjoy each other’s company. From one day to the next, I have no idea of what is happening in his head, and I’m not trying to figure it out. He’s scheduled to be married in a year, and I know that. When that time comes, and Irena becomes his bride, I shall no longer be a part of his life,” she said. “And to answer the other question, no I’m not expecting, trying to get pregnant, or plan to be pregnant any time soon. When I do become a mother, it will be with the man I marry. That’s it. That’s all I have.”

  “Okay,” Anya said.

  “Okay,” Diadra replied and followed her into the kitchen. As the hunt commenced, Anya provided Diadra a tour of the estate and explained the world in which she lived.

  “I am an ancestral landowner,” Anya said. “Years and years of our family have lived here since the first members came over from Spain. One of the primary problems in times of old were children out of wedlock, or more relevant in my case, children born of leaders, rulers, and dignitaries who went unnamed to protect them from harm.”

  “I saw all the faces on the walls of the famed members of your family tree,” Diadra said.

  “Sí, it is true, but the other downside of being part of an organization like this and having “inked members” of the company as your blood is that the blood becomes tainted in less than four generations. The addition of an outsider brings
in fresh plasma to energize the line to prevent a rotting of the roots.”

  “Do you believe that the roots need to be thinned, Señora?”

  “The roots need a fresh gardener,” Anya said, noticing the return of the men. “Please shower and change for the ceremony and lunch.”

  THE CEREMONY WAS A load of bullshit in Diadra’s opinion. It seemed seedy and absolutely tasteless to witness the parade of young women lined up for a 14-year-old to choose the one who would be his first. Her face indicated as much, and twice she tried to leave. Micah grabbed her by the arm.

  “Didi, stay with me,” he said, pulling her close.

  “Micah, I don’t want to be a part of this. You’re too young for whatever this is. I can’t. I won’t,” she added, trying to pull away.

  “Diadra, this is necessary in our world,” Yuñior said. “He produces sperm which makes him a threat to our way of life. Micah must select his first paramour, who will stay with him for three months.”

  “Seriously? You’re telling me that this 14-year-old child gets to choose one of these women as his sex partner for three months?” she asked in disbelief. “He can barely control what comes out of his mouth and you want him to learn to control... with one of these women and might I add, they are women!”

  “Yes, the one after this one shall stay for six months, as well as and the following four paramours who will be his companions until he is 18,” Yuñior said.

  Her tongue stuck inside the wall of her cheek as she looked at the women who seemed too worldly for a boy of fourteen. To make matters worse, Andres was given the duty of selecting the paramour choices. She didn’t like it, and the idea made her nauseous, especially when she looked down the line and saw two girls no older than Micah. Yuñior spotted them as well.

  “These two, no,” he said.

  Micah spoke up, “I asked for those.”

  “Micah, they are too young for this assignment. This is not our way,” Yuñior said in a firm tone.

  “No, I don’t want to have sex with them! I don’t want to have sex with any of these women,” he said, looking down the line and stopping at one young lady with legs that went on forever. “Well, maybe her.”

  He was still holding Diadra’s arm as he addressed the woman. “Hola, I am Micah. ¿Como te llama?”

  “Angelique,” the woman said with a deep raspy voice reminiscent of working in a seedy jazz club and smoking a pack of Camels a night. She appeared to be in her late teens, no more than twenty.

  “Mucho gusto, Angelique,” Micah said, lowering the octaves in his voice. He leaned over to speak to Diadra. “Didi, my mind is not scared, but my penis is. I’m still a growing boy and I don’t think my penis has grown enough to handle all of that gorgeous.”

  “Why are we talking about your penis, Micah?”

  “Because right now I have to think for both of us. He has to be trained so that later in life he doesn’t do the thinking for me, but we are both kind of nervous right now,” he said, peering over at Angelique and offering an awkward smile. “I have the basic working knowledge of how it all operates. I stick it in the slot and wiggle it around, and she makes noises. I mean, if my penis is big enough to get her to make noises. Does Yuñior have a big penis? He makes you make lots of noises.”

  “See!” Diadra said, looking at Yuñior, who tried to shield his laughter. “This is why this child should keep his penis in his pants.”

  Angel had arrived and taken a seat, looking at the young women. “Yuñior, when I’m fourteen will I get a woman to train my penis too?”

  “Of course you will, Angel,” Andres answered.

  “Yay!” Angel said holding up his hands in celebration, looking at a young woman with big breasts. He waved his chubby fingers at the lady and smiled.

  Diadra was exasperated and frustrated and had run out of words. Yuñior, trying to hold back his laughter, enjoyed the time with his brothers when they were at Perona de la Mar. Here they could interact as brothers and have fun versus the work at the farm. However, as the eldest brother, without their father present, this task had been assigned to him.

  “Micah, the young girls will need to be sent home,” Yuñior repeated.

  “No, I want one of them as my personal bodyguard,” Micah said to surprised faces. “Hear me out. I’m really awkward around girls and even having Angelique to be my first will not help with my disorder. If I had a bodyguard my own age, I would have a protector who appears to be a friend but is deadly. She can be my date to dances at school and sit with me at lunch so I’m not by myself. It is how do they say in your country, Didi, ah sí, a win-win.”

  Yuñior asked again for clarification purposes, “You want one of these young women trained as your personal guard?”

  “Sí, I don’t want a sore thumb like Gunther or Tonda,” he told Yuñior. “Andres doesn’t have a guard.”

  “That’s because I’m deadly enough alone,” Andres boasted, his eyes on the bosomed brunette standing next to Angelique.

  “I would feel better and more comfortable with a personal guard my own age,” Micah said, his eyes going back to Angelique. “And I choose Angelique as my first.”

  He squeezed Diadra’s hand for support.

  “Micah, you don’t wish to interview and talk to the ladies first?” Yuñior asked.

  “No, I just want to get it over with,” he said, lowering his head and knowing his brothers were disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm.

  “Damn, little brother, don’t sound so excited,” Andres said. “When I chose my first, I selected two. You know, in case I didn’t like certain aspects, and I would be stuck for three months with a woman who smelled like the butter of the peanuts.”

  “I don’t need two. Just the one. How does this work? Do I take her to my quarters?” Micah asked.

  “No, you will use the room attached to your quarters,” Yuñior corrected. “Never in your own bed. Your bed is reserved for your wife only.”

  He said it and looked at Diadra. Last night she’d slept in his bed. When she was sleeping in the adjoining room, he didn’t climb in bed with her. Now she knew why. Her eyes went to Micah. She pulled him into her arms, hugging the kid like she would her own brother. A tender kiss went to his temple. Diadra released him to walk away as he led Angelique towards the stairs and to his quarters.

  “Señoritas, we thank you for your willingness to participate. You will be compensated for your time and given a ride back to your homes,” Yuñior said, looking at the two young women. From his pocket he pulled two gold coins and tossed them at the young girls. One ducked, trying not to be hit, and the other caught the coin as she stared Yuñior in the eye. “You may stay.”

  Andres spoke up, “Ladies, this way; follow me and I shall pay you for your time. You, in the red dress, may stay and join me for lunch and drinks.”

  “Andres!” Yuñior yelled.

  “What? This dear woman needs funding for books for college and tuition paid. I must personally see to the next generation of great women in this country. I’m only doing my part,” Andres offered with his eyebrows raised.

  Angel, now on his feet, was tugging at Diadra’s blouse. “Didi, do I get a hug and a kiss too?”

  “Of course you do my Angel,” she said, taking to a knee and hugging the little boy tightly. This world in which they lived was foreign and scary to her in many ways. It was not her place to question as she watched Micah walk up the stairs, his back rigid, knowing he was afraid but about to become a man. For the oddest reason it made her cry.

  THE TEARFUL FEELING didn’t go away during lunch or later in the day when the sun set and time had arrived for another dinner, filled with more dignitaries and people she didn’t want to talk to now or ever. Heavy air filled her quarters, nearly sucking the oxygen out of her lungs, and she knew something was off. She’d felt the same type of air the first night she met Ed in the night club which made her decline his offer of a drink. The same air she’d felt again the first time he stayed in her apartment an
d she learned of Irena.

  “Shoot!” she spoke aloud, holding the emerald green dress she was supposed to wear tonight. “Forget this, I’m staying in my room.”

  Three times she held the dress, thinking of maybe putting it on, and finally, on the fourth iteration of self-doubt, she slipped on the green gown. In stocking feet, she padded through the shared walkway and peered into Ed’s room, but he wasn’t there. She didn’t smell the scent of his normal cologne but a different, familiar fragrance.

  “Something is wrong,” she said, feeling anxious. A tap came at the door of her quarters, making her jump nearly a foot in the air. She couldn’t reach the zipper of the dress and held the front of the gown close to her breast, then she answered the door. It wasn’t Ed but Andres.

  “Señorita Parsons, I am to be your escort for the evening,” Andres said. “Yuñior has to fulfill his official duties tonight.”

  Her face dropped. “I knew it. Something’s wrong, I can feel it in the air and nearly taste it on my tongue. I’m going to stay in my room tonight, Andres. Please tell your grandparents that I’m not feeling well,” she told him, backing away.

  “Didi, please turn around so that I may fasten your dress,” Andres told her. Hesitantly, she turned, and before she knew it, the dress was zipped. “Odd, I don’t ever remember pulling a zipper up on a dress. I do know of the many times I have pulled one down.”

  “Thank you, but Andres, this is bad. I know it’s bad, please, let me stay in my room tonight,” she pleaded.

  “I cannot step inside of your quarters, and I find it embarrassing to have this conversation in the hallway.”

  “Then enter through his bedroom door and we can speak in the adjoining space,” Diadra said.

  “Señorita, I’m certain my brother has not chosen a cowardly woman to be in his life. Put on your big girl pants, and let’s have some fun,” he said. “As they say in the hood, I got you Boo.”